


Tempo

by pipistrelle



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode Tag, Episode: s4e06 Starship Down, Established Relationship, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Queerplatonic Relationships, Starship Down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6400147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipistrelle/pseuds/pipistrelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jadzia had been fully treated for hypothermia, but that didn't stop her from insisting that Dax was still frozen solid, and the only possible cure was a hot raktajino and good company to share it with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempo

**Author's Note:**

> A tag to season 4 episode 6, "Starship Down", because I'm upset that Dax ended up snuggling for warmth with Julian and not Kira.

"You didn't!"

"I had to," Jadzia protests. "It was that, or end up an ice sculpture for the Jem'Hadar."

"But cuddling? With _Julian_?"

"It wasn't so bad, honest! He only talked about his lustful fantasies of me for oh, I don't know… twenty minutes?"

Nerys grins into her raktajino.  Her whole body still thrums with the adrenaline of the baseball game Captain Sisko invited her to (it's a fine sport, lots of yelling. She can see why Sisko likes it so much). And now, sitting cross-legged at the foot of Jadzia's bed, surrounded by the familiar hum and warmth and light of the station,  the terror of those desperate hours on board the drifting _Defiant_ is finally starting to fade, enough that she can smile at the absurdity of it.

Jadzia is smiling, too, even though she came out of the whole ordeal more than a little worse for wear. They released her from the Infirmary a few hours ago after a full course of treatment for hypothermia, but that didn't stop her from insisting that Dax was still frozen solid. The only possible cure, she'd informed Nerys gravely, was a hot raktajino in her quarters and good company to share it with.

"I would've much rather been stuck with you, of course," she says from the nest of blankets she's made at the other end of the bed.

Nerys snorts. "I don't think that would have been much fun for anyone."

"Maybe not, but Bajoran body temperature is about three degrees higher than human. You would have made a much more efficient space heater."

By the Prophets, it feels good to laugh. "Is that all you science officers care about, efficiency?" Nerys teases.

"Well, it's only a theory." Jadzia grins and lifts up the heavy quilt she's draped over her shoulders, opening a space beside her. "Want to run a field test?"

"I'm no science officer, but I suppose in the interest of cooperation…" Nerys sets her mug aside and climbs into the inviting hollow, feeling the soft fold of the blanket settling over her bare shoulders as she wraps her arms around Jadzia's waist. A brief brush of her hand against Jadzia's midriff confirms that Dax is not, in fact, frozen solid -- not that Nerys minds the excuse. She lets her head fall to Jadzia's chest, then draws back in alarm.

"What's wrong?" Jadzia asks. "Nerys?"

"Your heart." Nerys rests a hand where her cheek had pressed, just over Jadzia's sternum. Even through the layers of blankets and Jadzia's loose shirt, she can feel the other woman's heartbeat pounding at a hectic pace, like she'd just finished an hour of Klingon calisthenics and a jogging lap around the Promenade.

"It's the fluorine," Jadzia sighs. "Julian gave me something for it, but he said it will take about a week for the damage to my lungs to fully heal. Between the damage and the medication, my heart ends up working harder to compensate. It should be all right as long as I don't exert myself too much."

"No springball this week, then," Nerys says absently. The sudden, visceral reminder of how close they came to death has jarred her out of what relaxation she'd managed to achieve with baseball and raktajino. She considers saying something to Jadzia, but then Jadzia rests one of her own hands on top of Nerys' and it's all there in that soft touch -- _I thought I'd lost you. The Captain gave the order and I followed it. I couldn't mourn you then but I would have mourned you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._ And in the squeeze of Jadzia's fingers over hers: _You did what you had to. I thought I'd lost you, too, but I didn't. We didn't. Not this time._

It's too easy, some part of Nerys thinks distantly, how they've learned to say these things to each other with a look, a touch. Comfort in the shadow of death is becoming too comfortable, and maybe that should make her afraid, but it doesn't. Mostly it just makes her feel tired and worn.

"I'll have to take a rain check on springball," Jadzia says.

Nerys looks at her blankly.

"It's a human expression," she explains.

"Oh." Nerys' hand is still on Jadzia's chest. She shakes herself a little, coming back to the present, and settles down again with that pounding heartbeat under her ear, this time with a silent prayer of thanks to the Prophets that it's beating at all. Without thinking she lets her hand trail down Jadzia's chest and stomach to the hem of her shirt and pushes the fabric up out of the way, wanting the heat of Jadzia's skin under her palm, wanting to trace the trail of spots that she has memorized so well she doesn't need to see them.

"Nerys," and now she can hear the faint ragged edge to Jadzia's voice, the little gasp at the end of each breath. "That's not… helping my heart rate."

Nerys snatches her hand back and smooths Jadzia's shirt back down as demurely as she can. "Of course. I'm sorry." She pauses, waiting for Jadzia's breathing to even out, then adds, "I guess we'll have to check the rain on that too."

"Something like that," Jadzia laughs. She rests her chin on top of Nerys' head. "I know something we can do instead."

"No holosuites," Nerys says firmly.

"No holosuites," Jadzia agrees.

"Then what?"

"You could tell me a story," Jadzia says. She doesn't need to see Nerys' face to feel the heat of her blush. "I mean it. I hear you're a great storyteller, and I've hardly heard any Bajoran stories."

"You may not want to take the Captain's word on how good a storyteller I am, he was _severely_ concussed," Nerys protests, but Jadzia quiets her with a kiss to her temple.

"Please?" She lets out a purposefully pathetic little cough. Nerys groans.

" _Fine_. But you'd better not get used to this. What kind of story do you want to hear?"

"Something with a happy ending. The long-lost princess reunites with her beautiful lover, and the king gives them half the kingdom --"

"Bajoran stories are more about monasteries than kingdoms," Nerys grumbles, but then she sighs and tightens her arms around Jadzia's waist. "All right, how about this. A long time ago, on the very tip of the Northwestern Peninsula, there was a little cottage on the sea, where a beautiful woman lived. One day, as she was casting her fishing nets, something in the water tugged them out of her hands…"


End file.
